The Shadow of the Past
by A M4D TE4-P4RTY
Summary: It is Cashmere's first year as a mentor, but it turns out to be much harder than she expected. Not only can she not stand Glimmer, the beautiful female tribute, she also can't seem to escape the memories of her own Hunger Games. Then as the notes from President Snow begin arriving again, Cashmere is once again reminded that being a victor is not everything it's cracked up to be. xx
1. Future Echoes

From one of the windows of the Justice Building in District 1, Cashmere watched as the square slowly filled with people. Children filing into the cordoned off areas, family members taking their places around the perimeters, peacekeepers patrolling around the edges to make sure everything went to plan. To one side she could just make out the long tables where the people were queuing up to be signed in and on the surrounding buildings she spotted the camera crews hunched over their equipment, broadcasting everything that was happening to the rest of Panem.

Of all the districts, District 1 always looked best come reaping time. The people were smartly dressed, even the poorest of them managing to find neat, new-looking clothes, and were milling around talking excitedly. None of the silent sorrow and resignation of the poorer districts. Of course there was worry, families concerned for their children, but most people realised even if their child was chosen there was a fair chance someone else would volunteer in their place. Someone stronger, someone who had been training their whole life for this moment.

Cashmere sighed and let her gaze wander around the square again. It was decorated with beautiful brightly coloured banners. The surrounding shops were tidy and their owners had adorned the windows with cheerful bunting and Games-themed decorations – miniature models of their favourite arenas, tiny weapons made of glittering scraps of metal, pictures of previous victors and heroically fallen tributes. Groups of people were talking animatedly, she was fairly sure they were betting on the outcome of the reaping. Most of the children looked nervous but a few stood proudly waiting for their moment, their chance to win fame by representing their district in the 74th Hunger Games. You could always tell the ones who wanted to volunteer a mile off. A sense of excited anticipation filled the square. All in all, it looked like a real festivity.

She heard a soft creaking of hinges as the door behind her swung open and turned to see her brother Gloss framed in the doorway. He gave her a small smile and nodded his head. "Come on, Cashmere. It's time."

Together they made their way down the paneled corridor and descended a wide flight of marble stairs into a huge hallway with a pair of large double doors opening onto the crowded square. The hall was deserted except for the mayor and a small, fluffy woman with ridiculously patterned pink and green hair, who Cashmere assumed was the new escort for District 1. The last one, the one who had escorted her through her games and Gloss through his, had had a slight accident with cosmetic surgery in her quest for eternal youth and had hastily been replaced by a younger and less unsightly model.

The new woman stepped forwards hands outstretched. "Why, my dear, you are even more beautiful than you look on television", she twittered, "I'm Mintha Petal, the new escort for District 1." She beamed revealing diamond encrusted teeth and bright green lipstick. "And you," she rounded on Gloss who looked slightly startled, "if anyone had told me you were so handsome, I'd have applied for this job years ago." She wrapped an arm around both of them and squeezed, crushing them into an awkward three-way hug. "This is going to be so much fun! We'll be the best team _ever_!"

They were spared the necessity of answering by four peacekeepers who appeared from nowhere either side of the door and stood waiting. "Shall we?", the mayor asked, offering his arm to Mintha. She took it, still twittering and the pair stepped towards the door which was thrown open for them. Taking Gloss' arm and falling in behind them, Cashmere tried hard not to laugh. The mayor was a giant of over six feet tall, the escort probably didn't reach five even with her huge wig. They looked utterly ludicrous together.

Stepping out onto the stage, the first thing she noticed was the cold. A chill breeze was blowing around the square and many of the waiting kids looked frozen. From the look on his face, she could tell Gloss was thinking the same thing as she was: _Listening to the speeches is not going to be fun._

It was bad enough waiting ten minutes for the mayor to start his speech. In her flimsy gold dress, Cashmere was frozen in seconds. Try as she might, she couldn't seem to control the shivering and her teeth were chattering audibly. Gloss was watching her out of the corner of his eye and slipped off his jacket to drape around her shoulders. It was far too big, but Cashmere huddled into it gratefully. It might be big, but it was warm.

The mayor stepped up to the podium, cleared his throat and began in a painfully droning monotone: "People of District 1, we are gathered here today to select one brave young man and woman to represent our District in this, the 74th Hunger Games.

But before we can look to the future, we must remember the past. The history of Panem is a vital part of the Games and it is important that we remember it and that we pass this knowledge on to the next generation. In this way we prevent the same terrible occurrences from ever happening again. We stand here on the ruins of what used to be North America. Disaster after disaster wracked that country – droughts, storms, fires, encroaching seas and eventually brutal, devastating wars over the limited resources that remained.

All seemed hopeless but then out of the ashes rose a country greater than any the world had ever seen before – Panem. A shining Capitol ringed by the 13 districts. It brought peace and prosperity to it's citizens. It protected them, fed them, loved them.

Then came the Dark Days. The 13 Districts rose up against the Capitol, giving them no choice but to destroy the people they had loved and protected. 12 of the districts were defeated, the thirteenth was utterly destroyed, but the Capitol returned peace to Panem.

The Treaty of Treason was drafted introducing new laws to protect each and every citizen of Panem and to guarantee peace, and, as a reminder that those terrible times must never be repeated, the Hunger Games came to be.

Each of the twelve district must provide one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to compete in a fight to the death in an arena, with only one lone victor. It is a sporting event, a festivity, pitting every district against the others.

It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks. Repentance for the crimes of our fathers, thanks for the mercy and protection of the Capitol.

We are all truly blessed to be part of such a great nation and must all do our part to make sure nothing ever threatens this wonderful society again. Panem forever!"

The crowd responded with enthusiastic applause, although Cashmere suspected it was probably because the mayor had finally stopped talking. Glancing over at Gloss, she saw him mouth: "Worst speech _ever_!" Stifling a giggle, she turned back to the podium just in time to hear the mayor read out hers and Gloss' names from the list of previous victors. Both of them were greeted with cheering and clapping from the crowd. They had always been popular victors.

"And now," the mayor continued in his boring monotone, "allow me to introduce Mintha Petal, all the way from the Capitol, to chose this year's tributes." He stood to one side and flourished his hand towards the podium in invitation.

Mintha stepped up, beaming happily around her. "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever _in your favour!", she trilled, "It is such an _honour _to be here with you today. Such an honour! And I want to thank each and every one of you for giving me this opportunity." She surveyed the crowd from under her ridiculously thick, green eyelashes, seemingly oblivious to the snorts of suppressed laughter aimed in her direction.

"So, ladies first!", Mintha announced, tottering over to the glass ball with the girls' names. She rooted around for a bit to try and create some suspense before dramatically plucking a slip of paper from the ball and holding it aloft. "The female tribute from District 1 is..." Everyone was forced to wait as she tottered back to the podium and unfolded the little slip of paper. Cashmere thought she heard her brother sigh impatiently. "...Amethyst Moonstone."

A small, slim fourteen year-old with long blonde plaits and pale blue eyes stepped nervously forward. As she made her way past the other children towards the stage her hands clenched around the hem of her dress, crushing the fabric and she glanced frequently back over her shoulder, looking for someone in the crowd. She walked so slowly and reluctantly that it seemed to take an age for her to reach the steps.

"Come along now, don't be shy," Mintha sang out and lent down impatiently to grab hold of the girl's arm and hurry her over to the centre of the stage. "So," the escort beamed at the audience, "Amethyst has been chosen for the honour of representing our district in this year's Hunger Games. However...", she paused for dramatic effect, "if anyone volunteers to take Amethyst's place they would represent District One in the Hunger Games. Do I have any volunteers?"

At once about five girls, all older than the girl on the stage, pushed their way through the crowd. Eagerly they gathered in front of Mintha as she fussed over them and launched into a spontaneous speech about how lucky she was to work in such a brave and heroic district.

Cashmere found her attention wandering as they went through the long and very tedious process of selecting the final victor of the reaping. The rest of the people from District 1 seemed to agree with her as the crowd started shuffling restlessly. Idly, Cashmere noticed that having to wait was doing nothing for the boys' nerves. Near the back of the group a small boy of twelve seemed to be nearing a nervous breakdown. He was crying and hiccuping, a trail of snot running down his face, while his eyes roamed wildly round the square as if looking for an escape route.

She was so engrossed by the little boy that she totally missed Mintha announcing the girl tribute's name. Next to her, Gloss got to his feet and subtly dug his elbow into her ribs on his way past to congratulate the girl. Hastily Cashmere got up and followed him, hoping no one had noticed her lack of attention.

The tribute was a tall, beautiful blonde with emerald green eyes and a stunning figure, probably 17 or 18 years old. Her dress was very short and very low-cut and she wore high heels to accentuate her long, slim legs. By the time Cashmere reached them, Gloss was already congratulating the girl. She was batting her eyelashes at him, blushing and smiling provocatively while holding onto his hand for a lot longer than was necessary. Cashmere decided that she hated this girl already.

She gave her a brief handshake and a frosty smile before hurrying back to her chair. Gloss shot her a questioning look but Cashmere ignored him. Now was not the time to explain to him that she already couldn't stand the girl for flirting with her brother. Especially seeing as how she was responsible for keeping her alive in the arena.

Mintha waited smilingly for the applause to die down, then trotted over and repeated the process with the boys, waving the slip above her head as she made her way back to the podium. "And the male tribute for District 1 is..." She unfolded the piece of paper. "...Ray Osmium."

A huge boy of about 18 made his way proudly towards the stage. The volunteers were already preparing to step forwards but Cashmere ignored the proceedings. Instead, she found herself watching the little boy at the back again. He had visibly sagged with relief when someone else's name was called and had begun sobbing in earnest now. A woman, probably his mother, was subtly trying to comfort him from the other side of the cordon. He was rather sweet really, Cashmere thought, with golden curls, wide blue eyes and freckles. She wondered what his name was.

Mechanically she followed her brother to congratulate the male volunteer, who's name she didn't know, and sat back down while the mayor went to the podium to read out the Treaty of Treason. The wind was colder than ever and despite Gloss' jacket she was frozen and couldn't seem to keep her thoughts on what was happening. They kept drifting back to the day of her own reaping:

_It was a warm and sunny day, completely unlike the cold 74th Hunger Games reaping. She was wearing a beautiful sky-blue dress and matching shoes with her golden hair done up in elaborate braids and everyone was staring at her and admiring her as she walked past, head held high. Cashmere knew it was unlikely she would be chosen this year what with her brother volunteering last year. It would be too much of a coincidence and people would start to wonder if the reapings were rigged. That suited her just fine. If she was chosen someone else would volunteer and she would miss her chance._

_She had promised Gloss that she wouldn't volunteer for the Games but even then she had known that she was lying. This was what she had been trained for her whole life, she was not going to miss this, her last, opportunity because of him. She loved her brother more than anything but he didn't understand. She needed to do this. _

_Cashmere had tried to explain, but Gloss had smiled at her, a cynical, sad smile and told her winning wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She was better off not trying and anyway, she might get killed. They had both known that was not the reason he was objecting but Cashmere couldn't figure out what it really was and Gloss wouldn't say. He had been quiet since his Games, refusing to talk to her about it and shutting her out. Whenever she asked him, he just said she had seen it all on television and abruptly changed the subject. It was frustrating. Secretly, that was partly why she was so keen to volunteer. Maybe she would understand Gloss' behaviour better if she went through the same thing he had._

_The beginning of the reaping passed in a blur. Cashmere was so excited that she could feel her stomach churning and didn't take in a word of what was being said. The girls around her were whispering something to each other but she didn't care. All that mattered was the glass ball full of girls' names to the left of the District 1 escort, Pomona Delight. The ball the Capitol woman was reaching her hand into right that second. _

_She heard a name called out as if in a dream and felt herself immediately stepping forwards. 'Glitter DeLong' was the name called. It wasn't her, she could volunteer! Cashmere found herself pushing other girls to get to the stage first but long before they reached it, she knew she was going to win. She was stronger and faster than the others. _

_As she mounted the steps she found herself glancing behind Pomona at this year's mentors. Her brother was sat on the edge of his seat, knuckles white as he gripped the arms of the chair. His eyes were burning into hers full of fury and betrayal. Cashmere had never seen Gloss look so angry before. Despite herself she faltered and almost stopped, unable to tear her eyes away from his face. Time seemed to stand still for a second._

_Then, suddenly, she was engulfed in a cloud of lavender scent and Pomona was half leading, half dragging her across the stage to the podium and Gloss was lost from view behind the escort's ridiculously big hair. The excitement came rushing back as her name was announced to the cheering crowd. She was the female tribute for District 1 in the 64th Hunger Games. She had done it!_

The anthem playing brought her back to the present and she was just in time to see the tributes shaking hands and being manhandled into the Justice Building by Mintha. Quickly she got up and fell into step with Gloss. They stopped and smiled and waved in the doorway at the cheering crowd until the doors fell shut behind them with a very final snap. Her first Hunger Games as a mentor had begun.


	2. The First Step

Once inside the Justice Building the two tributes were bundled off upstairs to say goodbye to their families, leaving Cashmere and Gloss stood alone in the quiet entrance hall. Faintly they could still hear Mintha's voice chirping away and her heels clicking across the polished wooden floor, but soon a heavy door closed somewhere in the vast building and she was gone.

"Thanks," Cashmere said into the silence, slipped off Gloss' jacket and held it out to him, "I was so cold out there, at one point I was actually worried that my teeth chattering would drown out the speech."

Her brother grinned and shook his head. "Keep it, we still have to be interviewed about the tributes when we get to the station. That means more standing around outside." He wandered a few steps across the hall to look at a hideous painting hanging on the opposite wall.

A discreet cough behind them made them both turn. A peacekeeper was waiting next to an open door leading into a long, dark corridor – clearly a back entrance to the Justice Building. "Your car is ready to take you to the station," he said, his tone clipped and almost unfriendly.

Exchanging a glance, the two mentors followed him through the door, down the dingy corridor and back out into the biting wind. A sleek black car with darkened windows was waiting for them in the narrow side street. Somehow Cashmere had expected something more glamourous as a mentor, not to be hurried off down a back alley, shoved into a car and rushed off to the station. It was very different to her experience as a tribute and then as a victor.

"Your car," the peacekeeper grunted and opened one of the doors for them.

"Thank you," Gloss replied very politely and took Cashmere's hand to help her into the back of the car. Once they were both inside the peacekeeper slammed the door and they sped away from the Justice Building. "Not what you were expecting, was it?", Gloss asked glancing down at his sister, who was looking out of the window with a slight frown on her face.

Cashmere shook her head and brushed a loose strand of blonde hair out of her eyes. "I thought it would be more...", she stopped, unsure of exactly what she had been expecting, "I don't know, more like being a tribute, I suppose. Then everything was new and exciting and you were the center of attention and now we are just being got out of the way." She shrugged and looked out of the window again.

"You're just jealous of all the attention the tributes are getting, aren't you?", Gloss teased and nudged his sister with an elbow, "Wait until we get to the station, that will cheer you up. There'll be loads of reporters there who all want to interview you about your feelings on this year's tributes and being a mentor for the first time."

"Which means we'll be stood out in the cold again," Cashmere muttered less than enthusiastically. Outside a fine drizzle had begun to fall, slowly soaking the people making their way home after the reaping. Briefly Cashmere felt a little sorry for them. "I don't know why all this has to be done outside," she grumbled turning back to Gloss, "You'd see us just as well on television if we were stood indoors."

Gloss laughed and ruffled her immaculate blonde hair, making her shriek and swat his hand. "You'll be fine, it'll only be for a few minutes," he told her just as the car drew to a halt outside the train station and another peacekeeper stepped forwards to open the door for them. "Come on, Cashmere." Gloss took her hand as they stepped out of the car. "Big smiles for the cameras."

As soon as Cashmere stepped out of the car behind him she was blinded by flashing lights and deafened by a roar of noise. What seemed like every television crew and reporter in Panem seemed to be crowded onto the narrow platform, all shoving and pushing each other to try and get closer to her. Instinctively, Cashmere beamed at them, showing off her perfect white teeth, and waved, before following Gloss towards the train. Every few steps he paused to answer a few questions or smile winningly at one of the cameras and Cashmere decided to take her lead from him.

Stepping into the throng of journalists, she was practically assaulted with questions. "How does it feel to be a mentor for the first time?", a portly man with very round spectacles called. "What do you think of this year's tributes?", a woman shouted, trying to elbow her way to the front. "How does being a mentor compare to your experience as a tribute?", someone else demanded. "What are you looking forward to most about these games?", "Are these the volunteers you were expecting or did you think it would be someone else?", "Are you looking forward to working with your brother as a mentor?", "Can you tell us anything about the strategy your tributes are going to use?", "Any idea what the arena might look like?", "What did you think of the reaping?", "How do these tributes compare to the previous years' and how far do you think they will get in the Games?" The questions seemed to be endless and Cashmere found herself struggling to even make out most of them, let alone answer them.

Just as she was starting to feel overwhelmed, she felt Gloss' hand on her arm, pulling her towards the open door of the train and suddenly she was out of the crushing press of people and cameras and standing just inside the train waving to the cameras. She could feel Gloss' hand, strong and warm and comforting, holding hers and just had time to throw the cameras one more heart-melting smile before he lent forwards and pulled the door shut, shutting out the noise and the cold wind and rain. He straightened up and grinned at her, head slightly on one side.

"Also not quite what I was expecting," Cashmere gasped in response to his unasked question. "I'm sure there were less of them before." She tried to smooth down the folds of her dress and return some semblance of order to her hairstyle. "Can we go to our rooms now? I want to get changed before supper."

Gloss nodded and together they made their way down the narrow, paneled corridor to their rooms. They were next door to each other, identical rooms a lot like the ones they had been given as tributes years ago, except these had space for them to put their own clothes instead of drawers full of new ones and were probably slightly smaller than the tributes' quarters.

Once inside her room Cashmere let herself sink down onto the bed, running a hand through her wind-swept hair. She remained sat there for a while, warming up and thinking back over the day so far. She would have to make an effort when the tributes arrived to be nice to the girl, whatever she thought of her. Cashmere sighed. Being a mentor was nowhere near as good as it sounded. Maybe it would get better once she had an actual job to do. She shook her head and got to her feet. There wasn't much time to get ready, the tributes would be there any minute.

In no time at all her hair was perfect again and she was wearing a soft blue dress, that reminded her of the clothes she had worn on her first train journey to the Capitol, and she was back in the corridor waiting for Gloss. When he came out and saw her outfit he raised an eyebrow, but otherwise made no comment.

At that moment there was a commotion outside the train and they could just make out the small, tottering figure of Mintha, pushing her way through the crowd towards the train. The tributes followed behind her, waving and smiling. In the doorway they stopped and posed for the cameras for a minute before retiring to the safe quiet of the train.

"Come on," Gloss said and motioned for Cashmere to follow him, "They'll be in the dining room. We'd better go and introduce ourselves." He noticed his sister's lack of enthusiasm and grinned. "It won't be that bad, Cashmere. You never know, they might actually turn out to be quite nice." With that Gloss turned and made his way along the narrow corridor towards the door to the dining room.

Slowly Cashmere followed him, still looking unconvinced. She was already sure that she was not going to like this year's female tribute. It would be awful, sitting through dinner with that girl fawning over Gloss like an idiot.

As they reached the door the train smoothly began to move, gradually picking up speed. Cashmere forced her face into a dazzling smile. Hiding her true emotions was something she had become very good at over the years, first from her overbearing father and then from the rich people in the Capitol. Nobody, except perhaps Gloss, would have ever guessed that she was anything but thrilled to see the new tributes.

"You must be Gloss! It's such an honour to finally meet you. I'm Glimmer," a honey-sweet voice interrupted Cashmere's thoughts. The tall, blonde girl had come forwards and was clutching Gloss' hand in both of her perfectly manicured ones. Close up she looked even better than she had outside the Justice Building. Her smooth, pale skin and golden blonde hair perfectly set off her large, emerald green eyes and her dress clung to her figure in tasteful, yet sexy way that made her look absolutely stunning.

Silently Cashmere ground her teeth and fought to keep her smile in place. Gloss had often teased her for being a jealous person and she couldn't help feeling a little annoyed by this girl who was stealing the attention of everyone in the room.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Glimmer," Gloss replied, polite as ever, "and you Marvel." Cashmere assumed that must be the boy who's name she had missed. "I'm Gloss and this is Cashmere. We are going to be your mentors, so anything you need, don't hesitate to ask. Mintha will show you to your rooms now and we will have dinner in an hour." He smiled a warm, welcoming smile at the two tributes. The boy grinned back, clearly excited, and the girl giggled and smiled flirtatiously.

"This way, children." Mintha swept past Cashmere and Gloss, ushering the tributes along ahead of her. As the door closed behind her Cashmere could have sworn she saw Glimmer turn and wink at Gloss.

"Well, they seem nice enough, don't they?", Gloss said conversationally, crossing the room to help himself to a drink from a table by the window. When Cashmere didn't answer he turned to look at her. "Something wrong, Cashmere? You've been very quiet since we arrived."

Slowly Cashmere walked past her brother to look out of the window. Rain lashed against the window blurring the view into indistinct shapes that were gone before Cashmere had a chance to identify them. With unfocussed eyes she watched the houses of District 1 flash past her, not really taking them in. Instead she was remembering the first time she had ever been on one of these high-speed trains to the Capitol.

_The sun was shining and the dining room was very bright. Sunlight reflected off the mirrors hanging on the walls and sparkled off the rich, gold furnishings. Cashmere had changed for dinner and was waiting for her fellow tribute to arrive. To kill some time she was looking out of the window. Behind her the escort was fussing with the table decorations and complaining loudly about the poor service on the train, but Cashmere wasn't listening. _

_The carriage door slid noiselessly open and Gloss stepped into the dinning room. He threw one look at his sister and went to sit as far away from her as possible, his head resting in his hands. Cashmere couldn't help feeling just a little bit hurt. Even if he didn't want her to volunteer he could try being a bit more supportive now that she had. Angrily she made up her mind to go and speak to him. He couldn't just ignore her the whole time. She would make him talk to her, she would..._

"Cashmere? Are you alright?" Gloss' voice brought Cashmere back to the present. He was standing beside her, holding her arm and looking confused. "Is there something the matter? Do you feel ill? I'm sure I can deal with the tributes on my own if you want to go and lie down for a bit." There was genuine concern in her brother's voice and Cashmere immediately felt guilty for not being more helpful.

She shook her head and gently freed her arm from Gloss' grip. "I'm fine. I was just remembering what it was like to be a tribute. Everything here reminds me of it." She shrugged. "I know I'm being silly, but somehow that girl reminds me of what I must have been like. She knows she's beautiful and she isn't afraid to use that to get what she wants and she seems so arrogant, like nothing can hurt her, like this is all just a game. Maybe that's why I don't like her." Cashmere knew that was probably part of why she couldn't stand Glimmer, but she was equally sure it had something to do with the way the girl insisted on looking at Gloss. Obviously she would never admit that to Gloss himself. Also, a tiny part of her was jealous of Glimmer, another thing she would never tell Gloss.

"You were nothing like her," her brother said kindly and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, "You were smart and she doesn't seem that bright to me. Anyway, you were never that arrogant, more determined and focused. That's totally different." He grinned at her. "Don't let it bother you."

"Thanks." Cashmere lent her head on her brother's shoulder. Ever since they were children he had always known exactly what to say to make her feel better if she was upset. The two mentors remained stood at the window together watching the senery flash by until the sound of the carriage door opening announced the return of the tributes.


End file.
